It's the lightest of touches and almost startlingly careful. Devin doesn't flinch away from it, instead squeezing his eyes shut and willing the painful lump in his throat to loosen. What's left to say will be worse to hear and to tell, and all he wants to do is lean sideways and forget the world. How do you recover from a trauma so deep the wounds have never fully healed, and that you've buried for so long? Devin tries to remember if he was different before her. In some respects he must have been, but he can't see very well past that cloud of agony and anguish.
Several shaky breaths go by before Devin finds words again. "I wanted to run. I seriously thought about leaving the city. But-- I made a vow I would never inflict myself on innocent people. X doesn't deserve my burdens."
He grips the edge of the stone they sit upon, as if trying to borrow from the solidity beneath them. "And neither do you, Fool." The words are strained. "If she had known--" Despite the vague wording, the message is clear: if Bobby had known what the Fool means to Devin, even with so much unexplored between them, it would have been disastrous.
His eyes remain shut; if he opens them he worries his vision will be watery and blurred. One hand comes up to cover the scar over his heart. The Fool has seen it, but now he'll learn it's origins. "What X broadcast was the night I told her-- I loved her." Devin shivers at the memory, but he needs to relate how dire things could be. "I woke up strapped to a table. She kept me alert while she cracked my chest open-- taunting and teasing the whole time. She called it art," the word is spat with a burst of anger, "and she'd have done whatever she could to hurt you if she realized that we knew each other, much less-- anything else. I am a death sentence to the people around me."
no subject
Several shaky breaths go by before Devin finds words again. "I wanted to run. I seriously thought about leaving the city. But-- I made a vow I would never inflict myself on innocent people. X doesn't deserve my burdens."
He grips the edge of the stone they sit upon, as if trying to borrow from the solidity beneath them. "And neither do you, Fool." The words are strained. "If she had known--" Despite the vague wording, the message is clear: if Bobby had known what the Fool means to Devin, even with so much unexplored between them, it would have been disastrous.
His eyes remain shut; if he opens them he worries his vision will be watery and blurred. One hand comes up to cover the scar over his heart. The Fool has seen it, but now he'll learn it's origins. "What X broadcast was the night I told her-- I loved her." Devin shivers at the memory, but he needs to relate how dire things could be. "I woke up strapped to a table. She kept me alert while she cracked my chest open-- taunting and teasing the whole time. She called it art," the word is spat with a burst of anger, "and she'd have done whatever she could to hurt you if she realized that we knew each other, much less-- anything else. I am a death sentence to the people around me."